A Letter from Janine
by renniejoy
Summary: <html><head></head>Janine makes Sherlock really think about Molly. Second try at uploading - the first time was messed up.</html>


It had been a while since Sherlock Holmes had thought about Janine Hawkins. Their parting had been surprisingly amicable, considering that she had been retiring to Sussex with funds from outlandish tabloid stories of their relationship, which had been a ruse for Sherlock to gain entrance to Janine's employer's office.

He was curious but not worried when he opened her letter.

_Dear Sherlock, _

_It's been a while, hey?_

_I've been thinking about that lovely Molly Hooper. We had a nice chat at the wedding, and it doesn't surprise me that she broke it off with Tom. He was never going to be clever enough for her. He wanted her to be a housewife, can you imagine? But now she's alone again, with just her cat and her daydreams. That just isn't fair. _

_You have your Work, I have my bees (you were right, they are oddly soothing), John and Mary have each other. It would be a right shame for Molly to end up a lonely cat lady; she has too much to offer the right person._

_Find her a lover, Sherlock. She needs someone clever and kind, who appreciates her career and her body. I had a good time with the man you found for me at the wedding; I'm sure you'll be able to do as well for Molly. __Maybe that dishy DI? _

_If you're too selfish to do this for her (we all know how you hate change that you don't control), then do it for me. We single ladies need to stick up for each other._

_You owe me, Sherl, _

_Best wishes, _

_Janine_

Sherlock huffed out a breath and sat back heavily. A lover for Molly? Why would that be any of his business?

An echo floated through his mind, "For the sake of law and order, Molly..." Oh. Maybe it _was_ his fault that she was alone.

No, she should have known that he was joking. She always took his criticisms too literally. And he had been much nicer since the fall. Still...

All right. A lover for Molly. What the hell, he was bored.

First, "that dishy DI." Gordon? No, he'd seen how Girard looked at Molly. She must have seen it too. If Molly wanted him, she would have acted by now. Anyway, Gary wasn't her type. She liked tall men with pale skin and dark hair. Maybe women? Well then, tall people.

He leaned back and entered his mind palace, flipping through his mental rolodex. Stupid, ugly, boring, egotist, adulterer, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring!

The Woman. Hmmm, that had promise. But Irene was not going to come back to London if Mycroft could help it. Sherlock was a bit tired of her as well, to be honest. And Molly could not leave Bart's, where he needed her.

He flipped through a few dozen more mental profiles before deciding that none of them would be good enough for his Molly. His Molly? Where did that come from?

Frowning to himself, Sherlock left his mental rolodex and entered further into his mind palace, calling up his recollections of the petite pathologist. Competent, more than competent, brilliant in her line of work. He had never called her work into question; she knew what she was doing. Pretty, but not gorgeous. Fit, but not arrogant. Well, Tom had done wonders for her self-esteem. She didn't seem to shrink into herself as often anymore. Good thing he was an idiot. Wait, why?

Molly was intelligent, cheerful, helpful, pretty, loving, caring, always ready for whatever Sherlock needed. She was calm, steady, dexterous, and she smelled lovely. His Work would be twice as difficult without Molly smoothing the way and helping him. She only asked what he needed and never took more than he could give.

She and Tom had had "quite a lot of sex," he remembered. He had pushed the idea aside at the time, being focused on John's stag night. He hadn't wanted to think about Molly in the throes of passion with another man. The picture wouldn't leave him now. How far down her body did that blush go? What did her hipbones actually look like? Could Tom, or any other man before him, really have satisfied the passion he saw in Molly's eyes when she was elbows-deep in a post-mortem?

Sherlock came out of his mind palace with a gasping inhalation. He didn't want to find a lover for Molly Hooper. He wanted to be that lover. He finally wanted to be the man Molly hoped he could be, for her sake and no other.

Alternately thanking and damning Janine, trying to slow his heart rate and breathing, he typed and sent a text before he could talk himself out of it.

_Molly. Can we talk?- xxSH_

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